


Knights Born from Iron

by StarPrince_Punk



Series: My Irondad and Spiderson Fics [7]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Gen, Historical Fantasy, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, Knights - Freeform, Peter Parker Whump, Sparring, Swordfighting, Swords, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:00:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28352811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarPrince_Punk/pseuds/StarPrince_Punk
Summary: Tony Stark had been the head of the Royal Guard for around 10 years now, and throughout all his years in armor, he’d never even considered the possibility of getting an apprentice. Tony could never do something like that - train a child.At least, that’s what he thought, until he met Peter Parker.Now, he was reconsidering his stance on apprentices.-------A collection of interconnected one shots all taking place in my Irondad & Spiderson Knight AU. The first two chapters were originally posted as chapters 12 and 19 for my Febwhump 2020 collection, but I decided to repost them here and continue writing more in this AU.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: My Irondad and Spiderson Fics [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1421887
Comments: 10
Kudos: 34





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Captain of the Royal Guard, Sir Tony Stark, comes across a talented young swordsman during a tournament.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was originally posted as chapter 12 of my Febwhump 2020 collection ([which you can find here.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22687609/chapters/64016734)) If you haven't read it before, I hope you enjoy it! And if you have already, well, I hope you enjoy reading it again lol.
> 
> (This AU is very loosely inspired by [this awesome fanart](https://www.instagram.com/p/ByvVyzcIPAc/?igshid=174ahcthf30cy) that I saw a long time ago.)

Tony swung his broadsword, blocking his opponent’s attack. His red and gold armor - the traditional attire of the leader of the Royal Guard - glinted under the sunlight streaming down through the open roof of the battle arena. In three more quick movements, Tony disarmed his opponent - sending the man’s shortsword flying across the arena floor - and held the tip of his blade to the man’s throat.

The huge crowds in the seats surrounding him erupted into cheers, echoing against the stone walls. Tony sheathed his sword, and two guards ushered his opponent off the main stage.

Tony was never the biggest fan of doing these kinds of events, but being head of the Royal Guard came with its fair share of showing off his skills to the populace. That way, the people had the chance to see how talented a fighter their Knight Leader was, and how safe they were in his protection. He’d fought minotaurs and manticores and all kinds of crazy creatures in this very arena, but today he was dueling the city's most popular gladiators - not to the death, just until surrender.

Tony just found it was tiring, and a waste of his time. He had more important work to do -  _ actual _ work to do - rather than show off on a stage.

Although - he had to admit - the cheers of adoration were something he enjoyed. How could he not? The attention was intoxicating. The faster he defeated each opponent, sure, the faster he would get this over with, but it also meant the faster he’d get to hear that audience cheer his name. It felt nice to be appreciated.

The sound of the horns interrupted Tony’s thoughts, and the gates opened, revealing a new challenger for him to fight. This was supposedly the last one. Good - Tony was getting older, and he couldn’t do these long tournaments as easily anymore.

A figure stepped out from the shadows behind the gates. Tony tilted his head to the side. For the grand finale, this opponent was rather small.

The announcer’s voice then came booming through the stadium, “And lastly, the prodigy from the outer reaches of the city, the Man of Spiders!”

The audience kept cheering, excited for the final fight. Tony kept his eyes trained on the figure approaching him. Man of Spiders, huh? Gladiators these days always had such gimmicky names, with armor to match. The Man of Spiders had spider-themed armor, webbing carved into the steel. His helmet covered his face, like most suits of armor did - including Tony’s.

The horns rang out again, and the fight began.

The Man of Spiders drew two swords and swung them around in a flourish. In his younger days, Tony may have done a similarly flashy move, but these days, he just focused on the task at hand. Two swords, eh? Tony could deal with that easily. Tony had fought head-on against whole armies before. He’d deal with this ‘prodigy’ as quickly as his other foes.

Or maybe he spoke too soon.

The Man of Spiders was quick, and had reflexes that felt almost inhuman. He was flexible - Tony saw now that the webbing of the armor was actually the seams between many small pieces of metal joined together, making the armor more pliant, allowing his challenger to maneuver around faster than most were able to. Tony’s suit wasn’t clunky - not by far, he’d improved his suit a lot from it’s original design, working on it at his anvil - but it didn’t give him the limberness of the Man of Spiders’ suit.

They fought back and forth across the stage for much longer than Tony had anticipated. This guy was  _ good _ , whoever he was. The crowds in the arena shouted and clapped, gasping at tense moments. The Man of Spiders’ twin swords slashed at him, and Tony blocked and pushed them away. With the momentum of his heavy broadsword, he swung forward at his opponent, finally landing a solid hit.

He didn’t pierce the Man of Spiders’ complex armor - he hadn’t wanted to - but he managed to knock him over. As he hit the ground, the man’s helmet popped off, revealing curls of brown hair and wide, brown eyes.

Tony froze as he saw that the ‘man’ was actually a boy.

The boy looked stunned for a moment, propping up his hands to get back up. He reached for his swords, but Tony quickly regained his senses and kicked one away, then flung the other one in the opposite direction with the tip of his own sword. He then shifted his sword over the ‘Man’ of Spiders and pointed it at him.

With no choice but surrender, the boy sighed and accepted his defeat, raising his hands.

The crowd roared in waves of applause again. Tony sheathed his sword, but didn’t turn away. He removed his own helmet, wanting to look the kid in the eyes - brown eyes so similar to his own.

“You’re good, kid,” Tony said to him. “What’s your name?”

The kid stared up at him - looking half in awe and half in shock that the leader of the Royal Guard was actually speaking to him. “Um, Peter.”

“Peter,” Tony repeated, just as the arena guards came to guide the boy away. Tony didn’t say anything else, just kept his eyes on the kid as he walked back into the darkness beyond the arena gates.

As Tony received another ceremonial medal that he didn’t care about, he couldn’t stop thinking about that boy.

⎊ ⎊ ⎊

Tony Stark had been the head of the Royal Guard for around 10 years now. He became a knight when he was 17, he began training to be a knight when he was 13, and he’d been a fighter since he was born.

Now he was almost 50, and through all his years in armor, he’d never even considered the possibility of getting an apprentice. Many of the other knights of the royal guard did. Tony was not close to most of them, but one of the archers that he knew well - Clint - had taken his daughter under his wing, training her to be as sharp a markman as he was.

Tony could never do something like that - train a child.

At least, that’s what he thought until he fought Peter in the tournament.

Now, he was reconsidering his stance on apprentices.

He searched around for a few days, asking anyone he knew about the ‘Man of Spiders’, until eventually it led him to the outer edges of the city - a poorer neighborhood far away from the inner city walls where Tony spent most of his days.

He took a carriage out there, looking in the places he’d been told Peter might be. Eventually he finally found him.

Again, he saw the kid fighting. This time not in a tournament, but on the cobblestone street.

He was in his full armor again, swinging his twin swords at some hooded man. On the sidelines, a shopkeeper was angrily shouting about his goods being stolen. Tony saw the hooded man holding a large back and put two and two together.

Peter swung at the thief, but this man was experienced. He quickly pulled out a dagger and thrust it at Peter before even the kid’s quick reflexes could react. The thief stabbed the knife deep into Peter’s left hip, wedged right in the web-shaped seam between two metal pieces on his armor.

The boy collapsed to the ground and the thief ran away.

Tony cursed under his breath. He thought the kid had the situation handled - when he fought Peter at the tournament, he was able to gage how highly skilled he was, and Tony thought he’d be able to take down a common thief easily. Turns out the thief wasn’t so common - or at that least he was just lucky.

Tony ran over to where Peter’s figure laid on the ground, clutching his wound. He stood over him, “Hey, Spider-Man. You need some help there?”

Peter coughed behind his mask, his face still turned down, curled into the fetal position, “Th-That’s not my name. That sounds so stupid.”

“You’re bleeding out, kid. Can I  _ please _ help you?”

“I-I’m fine, I just-” Peter finally looked up at him. Tony - who was wearing most of his armor except for his helmet - was able to catch a glimpse of Peter’s brown eyes through the eye holes in the kid’s mask. “Wait, it’s you, Mr. Stark? O-Or wait, is it Lord Stark? Or Sir Stark?”

“Any of those are fine,” Tony said hurriedly. Technically, the kid should say 'Sir Tony', but Tony didn't bother to mention that since he was concentrating on trying to prevent the kid from bleeding out in the street. Couldn't the kid just focus on the task at hand? “Can you stand up?”

“Yeah, yeah, I can-” Peter motioned to get up, but was hit by a wave of pain centering at his stab wound. “Just… Just gimme a second.”

“Take my hand,” Tony reached out. The few people that were walking along the cobblestone road stared at them - what was the leader of the Royal Guard doing all the way out here? And who was this kid that got his special attention?

Peter hesitated for a moment, then grabbed onto Tony’s wrist.

Tony pulled him up. Peter winced and Tony quickly slung the boy’s arm around his shoulders to support him, allowing Peter to stand up as much as he could. Tony had done this a million times on battlefields, but never in the street and  _ never _ for someone this young. Too young to be fighting already.

People said the same thing about Tony when he became a knight at 17, and back then Tony had sneered at them and argued back. But now that he was older, he could understand their side. That age was too young to fight in a war.

Why was this kid choosing to fight in the streets?

“Where’s the nearest cleric sanctum out here?” Tony asked Peter, stabilizing him more with his other arm hooked around the boy’s waist.

“Um, I dunno” Peter hopped on his right foot, not wanting to put pressure on his wounded left leg. “I don’t think we have those in my neighborhood, Sir Stark.”

“Well then you’re coming with me to the inner city,” Tony said. “You think you can walk for a block? I have a carriage close by.”

“Uh… sure.”

Tony started to walk. Peter hopped along, but soon stopped again. Tony heard the kid let out a tiny whimper under his helmet.

_ Too young _ , was all he thought to himself.

Peter tried to keep walking, but Tony held him in place. “Nope, stop. You’re just gonna hurt yourself more,” he said to Peter. His voice had taken on some level of gentleness and reassurance that he’d never heard in himself before. “Here, I have a better idea.” He bent down, moving his arm that was around Peter’s waist down to Peter’s knees.

“What are you-”

Tony lifted Peter off the ground before he could finish asking his question. “There. Is there better?”

Tony couldn’t see Peter’s face other than his eyes due to the helmet, but the voice that answered him sounded a little less pained, “U-Um, yeah, I guess. Sir Stark, you don’t have to-”

“It’s alright, boy,” Tony said, that strange gentle tone still in his voice. “I don’t want you to be in pain.” He then started to walk in the direction of his carriage.

After a moment, Peter spoke again, “Thank you, sir.”

“It’s no problem,” Tony replied, his determined gaze looking forward down the street. “My carriage isn’t far from here. You can sit down in there.”

⎊ ⎊ ⎊

After a brief ride through the building-lined streets, passing through the large, ornate gates of the inner city walls, the horses pulling the carriage slowed down in front of a large cleric sanctum - a beautiful old building crowned with a tall spire. On the front of the sanctum was a large, circular window, covered by thick criss-crossing lines of metal in a peculiar symbol.

Now inside, Peter - his helm now removed - laid on one of the cots in the sanctum’s healing wing. Tony sat a few feet away, watching as a cleric worked over the boy. The cleric in question, Steven Strange, was in fact the Archmage of this sanctum - as well as one of Tony’s more unlikely friends. Tony saw as Strange’s hands would glow white with healing magic, hovering over Peter’s stab wound.

Soon, Strange was finished, telling Tony that Peter would be fine and just needed to rest. Tony nodded and walked over to Peter’s bedside.

Peter looked up at him, “Hello, sir.”

“You feeling better?” Tony asked. Again, there was that soft tone of voice. Since when was he able to speak like this?

“Y-Yeah,” Peter let out a little cough. “Yeah, a lot better. Thanks.”

“No problem, kid.”

“I’ve, um…” Peter’s eyes flicked away, “I’ve never seen magic before.”

“Amazing stuff, isn’t it?” Tony sat down at the foot of Peter’s cot.

“I’ve never, uh, been inside the inner city walls before, either.”

“Really?”

“Well, o-other than when I fought in that tournament with you,” Peter looked so awkward. He didn’t know how to talk to  _ the _ Tony Stark, head of the Royal Guard, the man captured by the enemy during the war and built his own suit of armor out of scraps in order to escape. “Th-That was fun, by the way. Good fight.”

“I meant to ask you - why’d you enter?”

“The tournament? Well,” Peter shrugged, “I needed the pay. Plus it seemed fun. I-I didn’t even think I’d make the qualifiers, but I did. Apparently I’m more popular of a gladiator in my neighborhood than I thought.” The boy smiled a little at the thought.

Tony couldn’t help but smile as well. Peter was adorable, Tony had to admit to himself. This wide-eyed, innocent-seeming kid. What was he doing swinging around dual blades? “You're a great fighter, you know that kid?”

“Um, th-thanks, Sir Stark,” Peter’s grin widened, sheepish. “That means a lot, coming from you and all.”

Now that Peter was out of danger, this would probably be a good time to tell him that the proper way to address him was ‘Sir Tony’, but he kind of didn’t want to. The mistake just showed how adorably innocent the kid was. “I mean it, you’re good. But you’re so young, kid. How old are you?”

Peter’s face fell a bit, not expecting the question, “Um, fifteen.”

_ Fifteen, _ Tony repeated in his head, astounded. “What are you doing entering tournaments and fighting thieves in the streets?”

Peter fidgeted with his hands. “It’s for the reason you said - I’m a talented fighter. My uncle taught me the basics of how to use a sword, and I got better the more I trained. So since I have that skill, I use it. I needed money, so I became a gladiator and entered tournaments. And as for stopping thieves, well…” Peter’s voice trailed off as he looked away. When his eyes met Tony’s again, there was something heavy in Peter’s gaze that all of a sudden made him seem much, much older than just some kid, “When you can do the things that I can, but you don’t, and then the bad things happen, they happen because of you.”

And that’s when everything clicked in Tony’s brain. It was looking in a magic mirror into the past - like he was looking at his 17-year-old self, with the brown eyes and hair to match, and the same stoic, determined gaze. Except, in places where Tony had been selfish, Peter was responsible. Peter understood things that Tony didn’t learn until much later in his life.

When Tony spoke again, he was finally able to identify what that gentle tone in his voice was -  _ paternal _ . “What you’re doing is pretty dangerous though, don’t you think? If I hadn’t been looking for you today, you might not have survived.”

Peter just shrugged, “I wanted to help that shopkeeper that got robbed.”

“If you wanna help people, then maybe you should become a knight.”

Peter’s head shot up, staring at Tony with awe, “D-Do you really mean that, sir?”

Tony smiled, “Yes, I do. You  _ are _ really talented, after all. Of course, you’d need to go through training first,”  _ Which is a  _ **_lot_ ** _ safer for a child to do than to-the-death gladiator tournaments or picking fights with thieves in the streets, _ Tony thought to himself. “You wouldn’t become a full-fledged knight until you’re older and complete the training.”

Peter thought for a moment. “What’s training like? How does it work?”

“Well, for a number of years, you become an apprentice to someone who already is a knight,” Tony explained. “You study under them and do the training work that they give you.”

Peter nodded, “I see. Who would you assign me under?”

Tony blinked. He thought it was obvious. “I was thinking  _ I _ could train you.”

Peter’s jaw dropped, “I-I… You mean it, sir?”

“Yes, of course,” Tony chuckled. “You gave me the toughest fight at that tournament, you know. I see some great potential in you, kid.”

Peter’s eyes were sparkling. “I’d be honored, Sir Stark.”

Tony smiled. Under his guidance, he’d be able to keep the kid safe from any other dangers that might assail him. “Good. As soon as you’re all healed up, we can start.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The other chapter I've posted to my Febuwhump collection is next. Thank you for reading! And if you leave kudos and nice comments, they are greatly appreciated!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter has his first day of training with Sir Tony Stark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was originally posted as chapter 19 of my Febwhump 2020 collection ([which you can find here.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22687609/chapters/69239901)) Hope you enjoy reading it!

Peter’s longsword flew out of his hands, clanging loudly against the stone floor of the training room. Tony had disarmed him.  _ Again. _

It was his knight’s first day of training and he already couldn’t stop messing up.

Tony - Captain of the Royal Guard, the most talented knight in the kingdom, and now  _ his mentor _ \- was wearing light armor used for sparring practice, as opposed to the usual red-and-gold metal of his captain’s armor. Peter wore matching light armor as well. Tony walked over to where Peter’s sword had fallen. He picked it up and let out a quiet exhale - although, Peter couldn’t help but interpret it as a frustrated sigh.

“You’re getting better,” Tony said. “Your reflexes have already improved. But you can focus more on your balance.” He walked over to Peter and handed him back the sword, smirking. “There’s no point in mastering all these new techniques if you can’t keep your blade in your hand.”

Peter took the longsword back, embarrassed. “M’sorry, Sir Stark. I’m… I’m more used to dual wielding.”

“And you are very talented at dual wielding,” Tony commended. “But to be a knight of the Royal Guard, you must be well-versed in all kinds of fighting styles. Now try again. And bend your knees a little. Lower your center of gravity.”

Peter adjusted his stance according to Tony’s instructions, then swung his blade towards the knight. Tony blocked it easily, parrying Peter’s sword to the side, and pushed forward. Peter took a few steps back, deflecting Tony’s oncoming swings as he did.

“Keep your footing,” Tony advised. “And you can’t keep on the defensive forever. Find your opening to strike.”

Peter was trying, really, but it was hard to focus on so many instructions at once. Plus, dueling with  _ the _ Tony Stark was already making him so nervous in the first place.

Finally, Peter found a chance to lunge forward at Tony. But his anxiety, mixed with his exhaustion from training for so long, caused the motion to not be as forceful as he wanted. Tony easily blocked him again.

Frustrated, Peter’s strikes started becoming more reckless, but this only opened him up to be more vulnerable against Tony’s attacks. With a few more quick slashes of his sword, Tony disarmed Peter again, causing the boy to stumble onto the cold stone floor.

“Dammit,” Peter mumbled under his breath. He looked up at Tony from the ground. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, kid. We’re just practicing. I’m not expecting you to master everything in a day. Now try again.” Tony reached out his hand and helped Peter up

Peter got to his feet and sighed. “Right. Okay.”

⎊ ⎊ ⎊

After practice, Tony brought Peter to the knights’ mess hall for dinner. Peter thought the food was surprisingly good - although, he should expect that knights of the  _ Royal _ Guard were given good food. Peter was glad, because he’d probably be eating here for most of his days in the coming years.

In the mess hall, Peter sat at Tony’s side. Many other knights that passed by would say their hellos to Tony, as he was their captain after all. Eventually, a knight with black and gray armor approached their table, a broadsword sheathed at his hip. His helmet was off, exposing his face.

Tony smiled as soon as he saw him. “Rhodey! How was your day?”

“Just fine, Tones,” Rhodey smiled back and sat down at the table. “Is this the kid?”

“This is the kid.” Tony put his hand on Peter’s shoulder. “Peter, meet Rhodey, my second in command.”

“H-Hello,” Peter waved shyly. Of course he knew who  _ James Rhodes _ was. He was as well known as all the other famous knights. Peter couldn’t believe he was eating dinner with  _ Tony Stark _ and  _ James Rhodes _ .

“Tony tells me you’re very talented, Peter,” Rhodey said to him.

Peter’s palms were getting clammy with nervousness. “Um, I mean, I-I guess.”

Tony laughed. “He’s amazing, Rhodey-bear. You should’ve seen him today at training. He was keeping me on my toes.”

“Really? Wow,” Rhodey looked impressed. “Well, I wouldn’t expect anything less from  _ the captain’s _ protégé. I mean, if  _ you _ out of all people here chose to get an apprentice, the kid must be a prodigy.”

“He is,” Tony bragged, then ate another bite of his food.

Peter politely smiled and thanked Rhodey for all the compliments, but on the inside, his anxiety only grew. What was Tony talking about? He did  _ horribly _ in training today. He wasn’t as good as Tony was making him out to be. Tony must’ve been lying to Rhodey - too embarrassed to admit that the apprentice of the  _ captain _ of the Royal Guard was so unskilled.

Peter felt pressure tense up his spine - and a weight on his shoulders. He had to live up to expectations. Once Tony realized he wasn’t the ‘prodigy’ that he had thought he was, he would abandon him in an instant.

⎊ ⎊ ⎊

The next day, Peter did worse.

Both dressed in the same light armor from the day before, Tony and Peter sparred in the training room. Not even an hour in, Peter had been disarmed roughly ten times.

Tony squinted at him. “You’re off your game, kid. You doing okay?”

“I-I’m fine, Sir Stark!” Peter quickly picked up his sword again, almost tripping over his own feet. “I’m just… I’m sorry. I’ll do better.”

“Come here.” Tony pointed to the space in front of him, his expression unreadable.

Peter nervously trudged up to Tony, feeling like he’d just gotten in trouble at school and now had to sit at the font of the class.

Tony leaned down slightly and examined Peter’s face. “There are dark circles under your eyes.”

Peter tensed. “W-Well, I-”

“Did you get enough sleep last night, kiddo?”

Peter was too scared to look up at Tony. “I-I… I wanted to practice some more.”

“So you came down here to practice instead of going to bed?”

Peter shuffled on his feet. “…Yes. I-I thought it would help. I need to improve. You said so yourself.”

“Yes, but you will improve  _ over time, _ kiddo,” Tony said, and - to Peter’s surprise - he chuckled lightly under his breath.

That gave Peter the courage to look up at Tony, who didn’t look angry or disappointed in him at all. Instead, Tony’s expression was full of warmth, with a glimmer of incredulity in his eyes - as if he was thinking  _ ‘I can’t believe this kid.’ _

“I just,” Peter stumbled over his words, “I-I didn’t want to disappoint you like yesterday.”

“What’re you talking about, kid?” Tony ruffled Peter’s hair. “You were amazing yesterday! I’ve never seen a more talented fourteen-year-old.”

The words, plus the comforting hand in his hair, lit a flicker of joy inside of Peter. He even managed to laugh. “I’m fifteen.”

“Right, right. Same thing,” Tony smirked. “Either way, you’re still a kid. You need to get the proper amount of sleep. Now go to your quarters and take a nap.”

Peter’s aching muscles and tired eyes relaxed in relief. “Thank you, Sir Stark.”

“You’re welcome, kid. Don’t mess up your sleep schedule too much, okay? You can nap for a few hours and then go to bed early tonight. I’ll expect to see you here this afternoon.”

“Got it.” Peter hung up his training sword on the rack on the wall and made his way towards the door. Before he left, he turned back around to face Tony. “Sir Stark?”

“Yeah, kid?”

“Did you…” Peter suddenly felt nervous again, “Did you really mean those things you said to Sir Rhodes yesterday? A-And just now? Do you really think I’m… I’m good at this?”

Tony’s face softened. “Of course I do, Peter. And after years of training, you’ll be even better. But that’ll be after  _ years _ of training. I don’t expect you to be perfect at this right now. But even so, you’re pretty amazing already.”

Peter couldn’t help but grin at the praise. “Th-Thanks, Sir Stark.”

“Go get some sleep, kid.” Tony smiled.

“Okay.”

Peter left the training room and made his way to his quarters.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it! I have a couple more ideas for one shots in this AU, so look out for those soon! As always, your kudos and nice comments are very much appreciated! Thank you for reading!
> 
> (If you like fantasy AUs like this, maybe you'll like my [Dragon Rider AU fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22584004/chapters/53969995)? I'm planning on updating it soon. Maybe check it out if it sounds interesting to you.)

**Author's Note:**

> [Here's my Tumblr](https://starprincepunk.tumblr.com) and [my art Tumblr](https://starprince-art.tumblr.com) if you're interested. And if you wanna read my other Irondad and Spiderson fics while you wait for this one to update, they’re all [right here!](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1421887)


End file.
